It's About What I Want
by VladimirsAngel
Summary: My piece for TheMarmaladeCat's fanfiction challenge. Raziel's thoughts as he battles Kain at Avernus...


**IT'S ABOUT WHAT I WANT**
    
    _My piece for the Cat's challenge…my brief was: Raziel's thoughts while battling Kain (Avernus Cathedral, __Defiance__)_
    
    _Must Include: Reaver, the phrase "wretched little saviour"_
    
    _No Mention of: Wings, Abyss_
    
    _I hope I fulfilled this to the best of my ability. ^_^ Legacy of Kain created by Eidos. _

Now that it is happening at last, I somehow don't know what to feel. 

He is here. He stands before me in all his arrogance and vampire glory, the Reaver across his shoulders, and he tells me that he does not want to fight. 

_"I have not come here to threaten you, Raziel…."_

In those words all the memories flash before me like lightning. 

_"Cast him in…"_

Feeling him bring the sword down across me that first time. 

Seeing the acid hatred in his yellow eyes when I caught him in the Time-Streamer's lair. 

Listening to his taunts and jibes, on and on, spanning the centuries.

And he does not want to_ fight_?

Kain, this is no longer about what you want.  This is about what I want. 

And so, as I knew he would, he draws that curved, vicious thing from across his shoulders and holds it tight in his clawed fist.

Who's lying now, Kain?

I take a swipe at him and he dances back, unerringly controlled and balanced on his feet.  We are too old, too wily for this, he and I. But this time I think I can sense something different about him, something strange…

"Think again, Kain…"

_"Don't be a fool! I will not fight you!"_

I swipe again, watch the expressions chase across his face like clouds across the moon on a stormy night. And then I realise what it is that is different about him now, and I can't help but laugh, a thing I've not done in centuries past…

He knows he will lose. He has realised…I am stronger than he. 

My laughter seems to unsettle him. He redoubles his efforts, grabs me, and he is fast, faster than I recalled. He hurls me back, and my body strikes the stone hard, dropping me for a few seconds. Not for nothing has he ruled Nosgoth these past millennia…not for nothing is he one of the last of his kind. 

_"Very well…if this will make you see reason…"_

But I – I have transcended all of that. 

There is nothing in the whole universe like me. 

I rise, and my next swipe sends him staggering against a wall, and the hated wraith-blade hums with delight as it bites. Its malicious joy is infectious, and I taunt him with my laughter once more. Did you think you had robbed me of all feeling, vampire, you who would have destroyed me?

(Does it know that it faces its physical being again at last? Is this why it seems to revel in being close to him?)

I am…distracted…my thoughts are wild today. 

Kain is too quick, in that one important moment. He rams me with his shoulder, not the blade, and I drop too easily. But it is his mistake. He should have run me through. 

_"Now you will listen to me…"_

So I listen. Time to regroup, to plan my next move. His naivete is astounding for one so old. He is speaking, of course, of the Heart…

"You don't know where it is," I say, "do you?"

Kain looks at me and he seems weary. Good. The more tired he is, the easier prey he will make. He tries once more to deter me from my goal. But I am tired, too - tired of all these _words_. The time for talking is over – was over, centuries past.

"Now we finish this," I tell him, "once and for all."

He braces, prepares, and this time it seems, the metaphorical gloves are off. His first attack is ridiculously fast, as if he was saving the extra strength and speed for just this moment. And now I find I am glad. It should not have been like that, not with Kain apparently unwilling and tired of the fight.

I require blood and pain and hard-won victory – after so long, don't I deserve it? I want – no, I _need_ – him to be the vampire who took my life in his claws and twisted until there was nothing left save the mangled, wasted creature I have become. 

I take swipe after swipe at him, using my claws as well as the Reaver. Although it may be true that the wraith-blade is the only weapon that can kill him, I want him to suffer. I will draw blood, as much as I can. 

And at last, as I knew it would be, I prevail. The blade, burning with all its vile energy, knocks him back, stumbles him enough for me to stab at his cold, hard body, wound him. He snarls, grabs me by the arms, as he has done in the past. I struggle, but he seems implacable. 

_Wretched little saviour, your arrogance has cost me…_

What? Who…a voice, not mine…

My thoughts are wild today…but are they my own?

And then I feel the unmistakeable tug as the Reaver tries to drag me down, and I meet Kain's astonished look with pure fury.

"You -"  I choke, trying to shake off his grip as the power of the Reaver leaches up my arm and coruscates around both of us like flame. I can feel…dear gods, I can feel the pull, as strong and unconscious as the draw of the tide, and it feels…right…

No! This cannot be!

_"No…Raziel!"_

Kain gasps, his own body shaking as he feels the backlash of the power. I glare up at him, try to grab his throat - although my body is fading around me and my strength failing. I manage to bring my arm up through the ugly aura and plunge my claws deep through his ribs. His head snaps back and he cries out, wordless, in pain. 

"Vae Victus!"   
_"I – didn't…"_

"Woe to the conquered!" I grind out, and twist my grip to fulfil my purpose. It is fitting: his words, used to my advantage at last. Kain shudders, groans: his blood spills from his chest and drools, slow and ominous, from his powerful jaws. Something deep within me delights, crows and revels in the sight as the blood sprays my face: and yet another part of me, smaller, quieter, despairs.

I shudder myself, as I push away from him. The pulsing, bleeding thing in my hand will spell my doom or my salvation…I no longer care. Either way, I simply have to know. 

"I have found the Heart of Darkness, and you go to oblivion!" I tell him, standing once more and hurling his broken body from me with a flourish. Again the dislocation : the sense that I am watching someone else move my body through this, my final revenge. But why now? Why, at the one point where I should be truly myself, do I feel so distant?

And just like that – he is gone. The Reaver, my prison, my would-be cage, is gone with him. And yet its burning cousin remains upon my arm, humming with power and delight. A gasp is forced from me.

Finished? Is this done?

_The madness of this place has somehow fuelled my rage…and as it subsides I feel no elation, no sense of victory…only a calm certainty that we have once again walked blindly into our enemy's trap…_

Somehow I think I hear that nasty little voice in my mind once more. A voice not my own, but invading, attempting to drive me over the edge into insanity…and this time it is laughing at me. 

This is not over.

But what is done cannot be undone. Kain is dead at last, and I have won my right to go…

…to go to the Ancient, and my answers.


End file.
